Tag Archives: gay

Paul: Now, I know I wasn’t supposed to get you anything, but I saw this and thought of you.
John: Oh, um, thanks.
Paul: Open it! Open it!
John: The Path Of The Green Man? Gay… Wicca? But I’m not…
Paul: Look, I know that it’s been hard for you, but it’s time you came out as gay wiccan. You own all the seasons of Charmed, you have that crazy wood necklace thing, you wrote that fantasy book back in college…
John: …wait wait wait, that’s something else entirely.
Paul: It’s okay! I won’t tell anyone, you can tell other people whenever you’d like, or not at all. But always know that I’m totally okay that you believe in gnomes or whatever. Okay?
John: Oh. Good to know.
Paul: Just, you know, try to be so obvious all the time, okay babe?
John: What?
Paul: Oh, um, just don’t broadcast your wiccaness to everyone all the time. Like, when you painted our apartment’s walls green and had us all read Harry Potter, I was like, ugggg, too much witches, you know?
John: The… Fuck?
Paul: I love you John!
John: Goddamnit.

Just imagine that everything I say is happening while you are making sweet gay love to a videogame character. Then your mom calls to ask how your classes are going and you pleasantly chat while Marcus Fenix lays on his belly sticking his cute little rump in the air. Eventually he gets annoyed and leaves, but you don’t care cause Gears of War sucked anyway. Actually, that’s a lie, it probably wasn’t that bad but you couldn’t get past the whole army of bros macho bullshit to actually play the thing.

You briefly conceder working on that paper about criminal rights in east Asia but instead bum around Metafilter for a while which makes you feel smarter than writing a horrible paragraph about forced confessions ever would. Eventually 5 o’clock in the morning comes around and you drink a few cups of coffee and actually start to work on that paper. When you turn it in three hours later it’s surprisingly adequate.

Oh shit! It's Nikola Tesla and his balls of flame!

For lunch you have a bagel with cream cheese and a Cherry Coke and you realize that nothing bad ever happens to you. Then a man who may or may not look like David Bowie walks up behind you. He slowly builds up balls of flame in his hands and looks at you threateningly. You begin to bargain with him that even though you aren’t doing anything productive with your life right now there is potential in everyone, even you. He laughs and says that this never was about that at all. Soon you are a burnt to a crisp, and keyboard cat plays you off.